


An Honest Mistake ( Philip Blake | The Governor / Reader ) [Oneshot]

by Inactive_Writer (orphan_account)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Blood, Crying, Depressing, Ending Relationship, F/M, For a Friend, Gift, I didn't intend for this, I'm so sorry omg, Major Character(s), Major Character/Reader, Reader Insert, Reader-Insert, Sad Ending, Season/Series 03, Sobbing, TWD Season 3, The Author Regrets Everything, Trigger Warnings, Triggers, but it just happened, honestly I'm so sorry, tw, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:30:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Inactive_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You decide to tell The Governor that you don't believe he should attack the prison, but things quickly go south as you say things you regret, and it ends up taking a hefty cost from the both of you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Honest Mistake ( Philip Blake | The Governor / Reader ) [Oneshot]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



"Philip, I need to talk to you."

"I'm a little busy at the moment, (F/n). Planning the attack."

You were standing in the doorway, frowning a little as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you, walking up to his desk and placing your hand over the plans.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," you looked down to your quote-unquote 'lover' with a small frown. "Please?"

He looked up at you, glaringly, but his glare slowly went away as he sighed, placing down his pen as he sat straight in his chair, and then looked up at you.

"Yes?" he said roughly, but kindly all at once, placing the pen on the desk that he was sat at, scratching his chin as he stared up at you, appearing somewhat impatient.

"Well, Philip.." you started, pulling your hands back up to yourself. "I wanted to talk about the plans to attack the prison."

"I know that," he said, placing his fingers together and against his lips as he stared expectantly.

You looked at the plans for a moment, and noticed the handgun on his desk before your glance reconnected with his, and you opened your mouth slightly, then spoke quietly.

"I think you shouldn't attack them." you said quickly, standing straight again and looking at him.

"You.... think I _shouldn't_ attack the prison?" he asked hesitantly, almost with a small, condescending chuckle.

"Yes, I think it's a bad idea." you nodded, pulling your hand up and rubbing the back of your neck nervously. His reaction was unexpected, but also concerning.

"Why?" he asked, a small smile on his lips as he connected his hands, rubbing his knuckles with his thumb.

"Because, we... We shouldn't be attacking innocent people." you said bluntly, crossing your arms and looking sternly at him.

"Innocent people?" he asked with a scoff, standing up and frowning at you. "In what way are they innocent?"

He walked around as you stuttered to find an answer, and he grabbed your shoulders as he stepped in front of you, looking stern and serious now.

"(F/n), they have killed several of our people," he said quietly, sliding his hands from your shoulders, up your neck and grabbing your cheeks gently. "They are murderers. We must take care of them, before they do the same to us."

"Philip.. We attacked first..!" you frowned as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, looking at him and seeing him frown as well. "If we leave them alone.. M-Maybe they'll do the same."

"Come on, now," he shook his head as you stepped back, pulling his hands from your face and turning, beginning to walk slowly and freely through the room.

"You know they will still attack us," he groaned as he followed you slowly. "There is only one thing we can do."

"We can negotiate!" you snapped and turned to him, hands balled into fists as you glared at him. You instantly regretted this, and closed your eyes tightly to try and calm yourself, breathing slowly.

"You think...." he said, edgingly to you, like he was trying to keep his calm as well, before giving a soft and condescending chuckle once again. "..You honestly think that those degenerates will be willing to negotiate?"

"Philip, I'm saying we could try-" you huffed, eyes still closed as you faced a wall. You turned around and opened your eyes, seeing Philip staring at you, looking rather.. angry.

"Try? (F/n), we either kill them, or let them kill us, and I will _not_ allow them to kill us!" he shouted, taking a few steps towards you.

"Philip, I will not stand by and watch those innocent people be killed!" you shouted back, stomping your foot and staring at him.

"They are _not_ innoc-"

"You attacked them first, Philip, _you_ did that!!" you screamed, shaking your head quickly as he walked up to you furiously, but you backed away as he glared.

"You're trying to convince everyone here that _they_ are the problem, that _they_ are the violent ones-" you hissed, still backing away slowly towards the door. "But it's _you_ , Philip, it's _YOU_!"

"You don't know _what_ you're saying, (F/n)," he shook his head as he followed you to the door, grabbing your wrist.

"Oh, I know exactly what I am saying," you ripped your arm away and hissed, backing into the door roughly. "Don't you dare grab me again."

He ignored you and grabbed your wrists again, poorly trying to reason with you again, but you quickly ripped your arms away again and smacked his chest repeatedly.

"You- Stop! I am leaving!" you screamed as you smacked his chest, and looking up you suddenly felt fearful as you noticed the wild look on his face.

He only grabbed you again, pushing you against the door and leaning in with his mouth by your ear, and you shuddered as he whispered to you.

"You ain't going anywhere."

Before anything else was said, you kneed him in the gut, causing him to stumble back with a loud groan, almost into the wall opposite of you both.

You quickly turned and grabbed the doorknob, shakily trying to open the door, but as you opened it and began to take your first few steps outside, you felt arms forcefully wrap around your waist, and you were yanked back inside quickly. You were practically tossed back inside and you heard the door slam. And a click of the lock.

You looked up from the floor and saw Philip turn around and stare at you, breathing heavily. He slowly walked up to you and you slowly crawled away, fearing for your life as you did so.

"(F/n), I'm not going to hurt you," he said calmly as he slowly approached you.

"Stay.. away," you said gravelly as you scrambled away on the floor, slowly trying to reach his desk.

"(F/n), please." he shook his head, extending his hands out to you and making a weak smile at you. "Please, I'm sorry- You know I love you-"

"Stay away from me!" you hissed, backing into the desk and quickly reaching at the top of it, throwing papers and pens around as you did so.

"(F/n)-"

"Stay away!!" you screamed, pulling the gun from the desk suddenly and aiming it at him.  
He raised his hands slowly and hesitantly in the air as he stared at you, seemingly unabashed.

"You don't wanna do that, (F/n)," he said quietly, still calm as he stared at you, shakily holding the gun at him. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

"Y-You're a monster," you shook your head, lowering your hand, but only for a moment as you quickly brought it back up, continuing the aim. "I'm ashamed I didn't- didn't see it-... I loved you..."

"(F/n), I love you- please." he frowned slightly, tilting his head down at the gun. "Put it down. We will talk."

"N-No, no," you shook your head, eyes watering as you still aimed the gun at him, pointing it shakily as you turned the gun still, pulling back the hammer and hearing the concerningly satisfying click.

"Please. I love you, and I'd- I'd never hurt you, just.. lower the gun, please." he said quietly, in that calm and loving tone of voice that you remembered falling in love with. He slowly lowered to his knees, crawling ever so closely to you before lower his hands, the gun still aimed at his face.

"Philip..." you felt tears roll down your face, you frowned nervously and slowly lowered the gun into your lap, staring up at him.

You saw him smile lightly at you as your tears still flowed, and you almost wished to smile back.  
You stared at eachother for a moment, the gun still in your grip, but loosely now.

Then suddenly, Philip practically lunged forward, reaching for your hand, the hand that held the gun, but you jerked your arm up, your hand brushing across your collar before a sudden bang was heard.

Philip looked at you in horror, seeing the large wound in the side of your face, your arm quickly falling to your side as the gun was held loosely, more so than ever.

"No...." he whispered, looking to his hands which were spattered in your blood. He crawled beside you and pulled you into his lap quickly, putting your head into his chest as he let out a loud, long sob.

"No- _NO_!" he screamed loudly, clutching your lifeless body tightly to his chest. He sobbed and sobbed, your blood pouring onto his clothes and chest, muttering out your name before the door was pounded on loudly.

"Governor?" said a voice behind the door. "G-Governor, we heard a gunshot!"

Philip only sobbed harder and screamed no, over and over, rocking back and forth as he held your body.

"I didn't mean for this," he growled under his breath between sobs, kissing the top of your hair as tears dripped down his cheeks. "I didn't fucking mean for _this_!"

"Governor! What's happened?! Let us in!" the voice called from behind the door once again, trying to turn the knob of the door.

"I only wanted to take the gun..." he said gravelly, whispering in your cold ear before kissing the top of your head once again.

As the residents pounded on the door, begging to be let inside, Philip merely sat on the floor with your body, crying and holding you, wishing that it was him.

In that moment, he wished it was he that you shot. That he could trade places, a bullet hole in the side of his face, _you_ being covered in _his_ blood and bits of flesh, you crying and holding his body.  
You'd be miserable, as much as he felt so now.  
But you'd be alive.

Something that, in that very moment, he wished he was not.

-

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a gift for my friend Dixon, and I SWEAR TO GOD I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE IT LIKE THIS I SWEAR  
> I'M SO SORRY


End file.
